Entertaining Angels
by Voyagerfictionfan
Summary: Harry and Kathryn search for a Christmas miracle.


Title: **Entertaining Angels**  
Category: TV Shows » StarTrek: Voyager  
Author: Voyagerfictionfan  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K  
Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort  
Published: 12-22-18, Updated: 12-22-18  
Chapters: 1, Words: 2,382

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 **Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

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 _A/N: My thanks to the talented OPYKJ for the festive beta :-)_

 **Entertaining Angels**

.

Christmas Eve 2377.

One minute before Midnight and the door chime jerks Kathryn Janeway's fingertips from her scalp. The voice that carries through the stale air is rough.

"Come."

With Chakotay on a trade mission to the Yirevin System accompanied by Wildman and Torres, double shifts have become her norm. Crew evaluations have further increased the workload, coupled with every head of department's decision to submit a deluge of requisition requests, ranging from cargo storage containers to plasma manifold injectors and just before the upcoming Christmas celebration to boot. As she adds her signature to yet another PADD, Harry stops at her desk. She only just manages to stifle a yawn.

"Mr Kim?"

Back impossibly straight, Harry clasps his hands. "All Ship's systems are functioning within normal parameters, Captain. I've had repair crews assess the damage to the shuttle bay door and-" his tone drops to become almost conspiratorial, "the Doctor has asked me to remind you about his choral recital."

Janeway doesn't look up, so Harry offers a clarification. "Holodeck Two, seventeen hundred hours."

Shoulders bent low, the Captain absentmindedly slides the PADD onto an already teetering pile. With a clatter, the stack wobbles then topples, sending the entirety over the edge. In a quick, if inelegant lunge, Harry manages to catch all but one. As he straightens, arms full, Janeway is pushing others and coffee cups asunder in an attempt to make space.

Her grateful nod affords Harry a closer look at his Captain. A sickly pale complexion emphasises bruise-like shadows beneath each eye. One hand tugs at the side of her neck perhaps to ease tight muscles, the other pushing stray locks of hair from her forehead.

"Who's relieving you?" she asks.

Eyeing the laden desk and the exhausted woman, Harry stacks the PADDS into two neat, equal piles.

"Lt Commander Tuvok. But if you've no objections Captain, I'd like to stay on."

Flicking upwards, Janeway's eyes narrow as he indicates the PADD sat atop the pile.

"Commander Chakotay and I were working on this roster. With your permission, I'd appreciate the chance to complete it."

Pressing her fingertips together, the captain leans back in her chair. Harry doesn't say anything further, keeping his eyes trained forward, his gaze soft until Janeway's shoulders drop just a fraction and the creases around her mouth soften. Sensing victory, he tucks the PADD under one arm, before scooping up two handfuls of empty mugs. At the replicator, he glances discreetly over his shoulder. Janeway's eyes are dropping, one thumb rubbing slow circles at her temple. His fingers hover over an analgesic, but he settles for coffee and with a cautious smile, places the drink on the desk.

"Why don't you give me a couple of minutes to find the latest draft?" he says lightly.

Janeway wraps her hands around the steaming mug, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Very well, Mr Kim. I'm keen to see what else the Commander has taught you."

Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the data, Harry avoids her stare.

"Captain to the Bridge."

Tuvok's words have Janeway moving at a quick march, Harry hot on her heels.

"Report."

"We have received a distress call from the shuttle. Lieutenant Torres reports that Commander Chakotay is in urgent need of medical assistance."

Janeway frowns. "You've laid in an intercept course?"

Tuvok nods. "Yes, Captain."

"Lieutenant Paris, warp nine. Engage. Beam the Commander directly to sickbay as soon as we're in range."

=/\=

By the time Janeway reaches deck five, a snaking line of crewmen stretches almost to the turbolift. Circumventing the queue, she encounters the Doctor at its head waving an unfamiliar probe at Ayala's head.

"Captain, as you can see, I'm rather busy at the moment. In fact, I could do with Lieutenant Paris' assistance."

Her gaze sweeping the room, Janeway nods her ascent, seeking out the prone form of her First Officer. Chakotay is unconscious. His skin is tight and sallow, deepened to an almost amber with jaundice. His parted lips are cracked and the hand she reaches for is mottled and alarmingly cool. As Tom hurries through the door, she beckons the Doctor.

"What's his condition?"

Much like an approaching storm, the EMH's countenance darkens. "Captain, I'll be blunt. The Commander has been infected with a highly aggressive viral agent. The Yirevin authorities gave prompt medical assistance to no avail. When their treatment protocols became exhausted, Lieutenant Torres had no option other than to hope he would survive the journey back to Voyager."

A glance up at the flashing panel causes his frown to intensify. "The infection hasn't responded to any of the treatments in the medical database. Its primary target, the liver, has been destroyed."

Janeway's hand slides onto her hip. "If we knew more about the agent would it help? We could return to the Yirevin system."

A shake of the head. "I'm afraid we don't have time. The Commander's condition has deteriorated rapidly since coming aboard. We are now looking at multiple organ failure."

Janeway starts to pace. "What about a transplant?"

The Doctor huffs. "That was one for the first possibilities I explored. Unfortunately, the Commander has a rare blood type. Coupled with his genetic profile, it is extremely unlikely that we will find a close enough tissue match. As you can see, I'm in the process of testing the crew."

"Can you use a replicated organ?"

The Doctor turns towards her, his expression filling with a regret that stops her mid-stride. He places a hand at her elbow, steering her away from the bed.

"Without a cure for the virus and with his current heightened immune response, his body will instantly reject the artificial organ. It will only prolong his suffering."

Within sight of the now dwindling line of crew, Janeway doesn't flinch.

"I'm sorry." He says again as she turns away, brushing a hand across her eyes.

"I suggest you stay, Captain. I'll erect a privacy screen. The senior staff will want to say goodbye."

=/\=

"Captain?"

Kathryn's sidelong glance reveals the youngest of her bridge crew hovering. Harry's eyes fall to Chakotay's hand encased in hers and he starts to stammer.

"I…. I wanted to-"

Silencing his spluttering with a look, Kathryn struggles to keep her tone on the edge of civility.

"Mr Kim?"

A shaky breath. "My mom, when someone was really sick… she used to place this beside their bed and-"

Face grave, he steps forward, pressing a small, solid object into her palm. No more than four centimetres in height, wingtips of rose gold, the serene face of an angel gazes heavenward. Janeway regards it silently.

"I'm afraid… I...I don't believe-" She starts, but before she can finish, a sound she can't halt emanates from deep within her chest. Between a small sob and a groan, it forces its way past her constricted larynx and into the space between the two. Tipping forward, forehead close to resting on the edge of the bed, she raises a tightly balled fist to her lips and swallows hard.

Harry shifts his feet. "Neither do I, really. But I thought- "

Clenching her jaw, Janeway quells a series of hitching breaths. The silence now punctuated only by the Commander's occasional rasping, Harry approaches, a tentative hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Do you need anything? Would you like me to stay?"

She straightens, forcing his hand to fall away.

"No. Go enjoy the party."

Harry doesn't move. "We cancelled it. Everyone is so worried, I.."

Janeway's eyes close. "Ensign, your shift is over. Get some rest. That's an order."

=/\=

At the loud, insistent wail of red alert, the Captain's head snaps upright. Harry winces as Janeway's hand rises to cradle the back of her neck. She blinks and then brushes strands of auburn hair from bloodshot eyes. Tuvok's voice carries over the comm.

"Captain to the Bridge."

Janeway looks from Chakotay to the door and then to Harry.

"On my way."

She beckons the loitering Ensign. "Stay with him. I want to be informed of any change in his condition. Immediately."

Mutely Harry nods but unconvinced, Janeway steps closer, so close that he can feel the light huff of her exasperation on his cheek.

"I have to go. But I want you to call me if you think… If you think he's going to…." She stops, looking so intently at Harry that he doesn't breathe.

"Do you understand? I have to be here if-"

"I understand." Harry interrupts solemnly, and she looks at Chakotay again before marching heavy-footed from the room.

=/\=

It is just shy of four hours later when his Captain returns. Crossing the threshold Janeway's familiar stride is purposeful if half her standard speed. Her hair is in disarray and her uniform littered with patches of sweat and grime. Briefly, she rests one hand against the wall, before almost running towards Harry. The now-vacant biobed resulting in an expression of pure horror.

"He's going to be okay," Harry blurts, earning a sour look from the approaching EMH.

"As Mr Kim so adroitly put it," the Doctor rallies, his words coated with dripping sarcasm, "following his transplant, I now expect the Commander to make a full recovery."

Janeway aims a near murderous glare at the hologram.

"You told me a transplant wasn't an option."

The doctor bridles. "It wasn't when we last spoke. I tried to contact you on the bridge, but the comm system was down."

"What the Doc means," Harry cuts in before the Doctor experiences the full force of the Captain's rapidly increasing wrath, "is that the Commander only had a transplant because we miscounted."

Almost triumphant, he holds up a PADD. "Crewman Biddle recently transferred from Security to Engineering. The Engineering department thought he was screened with the Security team and vice versa. I re-checked the crew count and-"

Janeway spins on her heel, eyes darkening to sapphire with concern.

"The crewman?"

The Doctor shrugs. "He'll be spending the upcoming holiday in sickbay. He'll need a prolonged period of recuperation while his liver regenerates, but otherwise, he too will make a full recovery."

Taking a step backwards, Janeway's lumbar spine finds the bulkhead, the colour draining from her face.

"What were the odds?" The murmured question barely reaches them. "Of finding a close enough match?"

"Approximately fifteen thousand, four hundred and forty-seven point two, to one." The Doctor chimes in. "Now if you've finished using my highly sophisticated matrix as a run of the mill calculator, I have patients to attend to."

Ignoring the barb, Janeway slides slowly down the wall to a crouch. Black regulation boots up against her shins, she wraps an arm around her knees. Harry drops to a crouch, carefully tugging a hypospray from his pocket. Cautiously, he offers it within an open palm. Janeway swallows, squinting at the drug before to his surprise inclining her head. Harry pauses for just a second, before reaching over to press the hypospray gently against her skin. Breathing deeply, the captain allows her head to rest back. After a minute, her forehead smooths and the lines around her mouth ease. A minute more and a flicker of something bright is back in her eyes, along with a hint of rose to the apples of her cheeks.

She turns to Harry. "Have the crew gather in the Mess Hall. I'd like to give them the good news about the Commander myself."

Harry stands, extending his hands. With a rueful smile, Janeway accepts the gentle tug to her feet. Smoothing her uniform, she presses her fingertips against swollen eyelids.

"I'll freshen up and be along directly."

Harry shares her emerging smile. "Merry Christmas, Captain."

=/\=

Kathryn stands at Chakotay's bedside in an eerily quiet sickbay. The jaundiced hues have already started to fade and the hand in hers is reassuringly warm. Gone are the rattling breaths, the paper-thin skin that he clawed at even while unconscious and the icy fingers that vice-like, gripped her heart. His eyes open and he blinks her into focus.

"Welcome back. You gave us quite a scare."

A small sleepy smile. "That's usually…. my line."

The Captain takes a long shuddering inhalation before releasing the breath through gently pursed lips. Chakotay tightens his fingers around her hand.

"I'm okay, Kathryn."

She nods as he tries, largely unsuccessfully, to lift his head and shoulders. Shaking her head lightly, she presses him back against the bed.

"Take it easy, you've had a rough ride."

Allowing his head to fall back, his gaze drops to her other hand.

"An angel?"

Kathryn regards the small golden face peeking through the top of her still tightly clasped fist with an expression akin to surprise. One by one, she uncurls her fingers, holding the figurine up to the light. Closing her hand again, she offers him a promise.

"Get some rest Chakotay, I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

His nod is met with the now-familiar shoulder squeeze and as she walks away Chakotay manages to turn his head. His memory is decidedly hazy and quite what transpired between the end of the trade talks and waking up back aboard Voyager will apparently have to wait. Half-way to the door, Kathryn stops beside another prone figure. He is unable to make out who else is destined to spend the upcoming holiday in sickbay, but Kathryn leans forward and places the angel at the head of the bed. As she disappears into the corridor, Chakotay allows his eyes to close.

From his office, come the melodious strains of the Doctor's voice.

 _"Angels we have heard on high_  
 _Sweetly singing on the plains_  
 _And the mountains in reply_  
 _Echoing their joyous strains._

 _Gloria, in excelsis Deo_  
 _Gloria, in excelsis Deo"_


End file.
